Page 216 of In Somnis

The jealousy spikes harder this time, but I force my mouth into something neutral. “Well,” I say carefully. “You’d know more about that than I do.”

“You should try it,” she says as if recommending a dessert. “Genuinely. But watch out, or you’ll have him simp after you for a year.”

“I—”

“In town, everyone kind of knows he’s a great time if you manage to hook up with him. Very worth the simping.”

“He’s not just a lay.”

“No, yeah, he’s nice too,” she says easily. “He’s kind.”

She takes another drink, then she laughs. “But come on. He’s not really boyfriend material.”

My body goes very still, but Sydney keeps talking, oblivious.

“Everyone knows that. He struggled in school, like a lot.”

My fingers tighten around the beer bottle.

“And his mom and brother? Like…” She snorts. “The whole family is so damn weird. I feel bad for him, I do. And I don’t regret it. It was fun.”

My pulse starts pounding in my ears.

“But I could never actually be associated with him.” She lowers her voice conspiratorially. “Like properly. You know?”

I stare at her.

“I mean, imagine bringing him somewhere.” She wrinkles her nose. “I would never date someone like him.” She gives a lazy shrug. “But a little fun? Sure.”

Something inside me snaps, and I move before my brain catches up.

My beer hits the table hard enough to slosh over the rim, and I’m already halfway across the carpet to pull her hair when two hands slide under my arms from behind, and just like that, I’m airborne, completely off the ground.

“Sorry about that,” Nevan says calmly over my head to Sydney, already carrying me out of the library as if I’m not currently trying to commit a felony in his arms.

Behind us, Sydney lets out a startled, half-drunken laugh.

I kick back again against Nevan’s thigh. “Put me down!”

“No.”

“I’m serious!”

“I know.”

He pushes the door open with his shoulder and walks straight out into the garden while I continue trying to murder him with my feet, and his yellow helmet clatters on the ground.

Nevan

She’s still trying to fight me when I carry her outside.

Kicking, twisting, and apparently fully committed to violence.

“Let me at her!”

“Okay, calm down, you vicious little thing.”

I keep walking across the grass until we’re far enough from the door that the music dulls into a low thump. I keep my arms around her, mostly to keep her from actually turning around and going back in there, when I feel her teeth close on my forearm.